Shadows of the Past: The Beginning
by Serova
Summary: The tale of a tortured mutant. Rated R just in case. Please R&R. This has nothing to do with any of the X Men.


Title: Shadows of the Past: The Beginning  
Feedback: YES, YES, YES! ^_^ R&R!!!  
Distribute: Sure, ask and you shall receive.  
Summary: The tale of a tortured Mutant.. Please R&R.  
Authors Notes: ^_^ Okay this might seem a little undescriptive and mind you it's a POV as well, you'd probably understand this much better after the next chapter, it explains alot so be patient!  
Authors Notes2: This really has nothing to do with any of the X Men whatsoever, so if you like reading about new mutants look no further. I might think about threading in a few X Men but I can't guarantee anything.  
Disclaimer: Most to all of these characters are my own so I guess this is pretty safe! :D Nyah nyah. Uhm, so no stealing, I guess? Gee, I'm bad at these things.  


  
  
  
  
  
S h a d o w s o f t h e P a s t  
Series Part I 'The Beginning'  
  
  
  
P r o l o g u e  


  
  
  
Russia, 1985  
  
  
It's dark. And for a moment I don't know where I am: I must be hoping for the best again. I know exactly where I am, but I keep telling myself there in the darkness of my own little hell that it's all just a dream and that I'll wake up soon. It'll never happen. I know that. I'm more intelligent then they give me credit for, just because I don't know how to speak more than a few words of Russian, even though I don't really know what they mean, that does _not_ make me stupid. After God only knows how many years I've learned for the most part how to conduct myself around them, the monsters, as I have come to call them. Funny, I used to think monsters were creatures that come out of the darkness and ate you, but then that wouldn't be true, would it? No, there's no such as mystical creatures that come and eat you, but there are other monsters...  
  
  
I learned very quickly that it is completely impossible to resist them, if you do... very bad things happen to you, not that what they're trying to do to you in the first place isn't just as bad. If I had a nickel for every time I woke up like this, I would be a very rich woman right now. I try to sit up but find that I'm strapped down from head to toe and my arm aches from the sharp IV needle dangling from a pulsing vein, the room dim and abandoned save for one who clattered away at a strange looking device with buttons and a big screen. I blink my eyes a few times and get my bearings. It was too early for another one of my fits and I was too weak to pull another one off anyway. I don't know what they were pumping into me at the time but it was making me very weak, though I couldn't really move anyway thanks to the restraints. Hours before I'd been clawing at anything or anyone that I could get my hands on. That is, before they knocked me down and sedated me. They do that a lot. Maybe because I get angry a lot... But can you really blame me?  
  
  
The man in the white coat looks up for a moment as if he hears something, ignoring my awareness. I hadn't noticed him all that much before, he was an older man with grey-ish brown hair and blue eyes. I've seen him before... but not exactly sure where. Something else steals my attention away, sounds. Loud sounds that were all-too familiar and also very foreign; I shrugged it off as another beating of the other 'experiments'. I always did love how they would try and make it seem like I was the only one that got tortured around the place, but I could smell each and every one of them. Their scents would waft in every now and then and it was in all honesty a little comforting to know that I wasn't alone in my pain. Misery certainly loves company.  
  
  
I heard a loud crash then, followed by gunfire. Several alarms went off, drowning out some of the other noises that might have been floating around, because I didn't hear much of anything aside from it. Then out of both fear and opportunity, as the man in the long white coat jumped over his desk and ran for something out of my line of sight, I frantically began yanking at my binds, only able to manage weak squirming due to the sluggish affects of whatever they were putting into my body from the IV linkup.   
  
  
Whoever they were, I could smell and hear them coming; they weren't of this place. Everyone in this hell smelled distinctively of several types of chemicals, though I didn't know what chemicals were at the time, and these people smelled of the outside world away from this place... and they were right outside hell's door. Why would they come to a place like this?? Well, I didn't plan on just lying there, no: I yanked harder despite my weakness. Gunfire rang out again, only this time from inside the room as the man in the white lab-coat had retrieved a firearm and trained it on the moving doors... 


End file.
